Judge, Jury, and Executioner
by foxeye10
Summary: Years ago Mitchell made a deal with the Doctor, and now the Time Lord is back. Set during Series 3 of Being Human / Series 3 of Doctor Who.
1. Introductions

Right, so here is my first crossover!

Set between episodes 3 and 4 of Being Human and during season 3 of Doctor Who. So, Herrick isn't in the picture yet, Mitchell and Annie are together and George and Nina haven't told anyone about their little werewolf baby!

Over the course of the story I will tie in werewolves, vampires and ghosts to the Doctor Who universe - as obviously he has come across a few on the show.

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><p><em>"A stranger is a friend you have yet to meet"<em>

-Anon-

**Introductions**

The blue box solidified out of nowhere, leaves swirling around it. From its depths stepped a tall man, dressed in a tight suit, long brown coat and an idiot grin. Following him came a young woman, with dark skin and long hair caught up in a ponytail. As she shrugged on a red leather jacket she raised an eyebrow at the man before her, "This does not look like the fourth planet in the Mobi system!"

He gave her an offended look, "How would you know? Ever been there before?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, but I'm sure they don't have Celebrity Big Brother." She nodded her head towards a shop window opposite, where the TV show was playing.

"Ah." The Doctor looked guilty, "We may have taken a _slight _detour."

Martha sighed, hoping this adventure would _not_ involve slime; she was still trying to get the last bits off her boots. "Where - scrap that- _when_ are we?"

"Wales - Barry Island to be exact," the Doctor sounded pleased with himself. "And it's," he licked his finger, holding it up in the air, "2011... ish... hopefully..."

His companion sighed, "And why are we here?" she said. "I mean,Barry Island is not exactly the most exciting place in the world, or the galaxy come to think of it."

"Oh, there are much more boring places!" the Time Lord scoffed. He then went on to describe, in gripping detail, the seven most boring places in the galaxy. Finally he caught a hold of himself and announced, "We're going to visit an old...acquaintance of mine."

He would say nothing more on the matter as the two of them walked on.

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There is an old bed and breakfast on Barry Island, inhabited by a less-than-normal group of - for want of a better word - people.

First up every morning is Annie, who may be a ghost, but still makes a fantastic cup of tea.

She is soon joined by Mitchell, Irish vampire and, as of a few weeks ago, her boyfriend. Although, the term does seem a little juvenile for a 118 year old.

George stumbled downstairs a little later, staring blearily through his glasses until he downed his first cup of coffee.

Through a mouthful of cereal Mitchell asked, "Where's Nina, mate?"

Yawning the werewolf replied, "Night shift. Should be back soon."

Whilst Annie rolled her eyes at her housemates' monosyllabic conversation, there came a knock at the door. She made '_I can't answer it because I'm an invisible ghost'_ eyes at Mitchell, who groaning, went to open the door.

Grumpily he wrenched the door open, barking "What." The vampire took one look at the couple on the front step and slammed it again.

Martha looked confusedly at the Doctor. "Was that supposed to happen?"

Inside the house Annie and George were just as baffled. Mitchell muttered something along the lines of, "Jehovah's witnesses" and "just leave it and they'll go away" before slumping down at the bar.

They didn't leave, the knocking only continued. Eventually George sighed, theatrically cried, "So I'll get it!" and stomped over to the door.

"Hi!" cried the man outside, messy hair atop a grinning face. "I'm the Doctor, and this is the lovely Martha Jones!"

The girl beside him gave a nervous wave and said hi.

The young werewolf sighed and said, "No, I don't want to accept the Lord Jesus Christ as my saviour."

"Um…" the two strangers went blank. They exchanged looks, and then hesitantly, like a man trying not to upset a crazy person; the one who had called himself the Doctor said, "We're here to see Mitchell."

"Oh." George paused. His voiced rose a notch, "Oh, ok then." He raised his hand, as if about to invite them inside then stopped and peered suspiciously.

Before he could say anything else the Doctor raised his hands in a placating manner and said, "It's OK, we aren't vampires! We just want to have a word with him."

Martha and George both stared in surprise as the odd man darted inside the house. At the same moment they spoke, "What? Vampire?", Martha said; whilst George exclaimed, "But how do you..."

The Doctor spun around in the house, caught sight of Annie and grinned. "Oh hello there!" He grabbed her hand, shaking it enthusiastically. Holding it up to his face for examination he then exclaimed, "Tingly! So, how long have you been dead then? No, no sorry, that's just me being rude again. Very nice to meet you, I'm the Doctor, and you are?"

Under barrage by the flow of words Annie blushed and stuttered her name.

Spinning around again the man bore down on George who was shutting the door behind himself and Martha. "And a werewolf! Oh, it does get more exciting!"

"I'm George," the werewolf in question offered, "And Mr. Rude over there is Mitchell."

The Doctor's eyes flickered over to the man on the bar stool and for a moment his eyes seemed cold and ancient. All he said however was, "We've met."

An awkward silence hung over the house for a beat. Then Martha, her eyes fixed on the spot where Annie was lingering, said, "Er, Doctor. Over there, in the corner…well, there's nobody there."

The three housemates looked decidedly awkward as the Doctor turned to his companion. He took her hand in his, looked her deep in the eyes and in a voice as smooth as syrup said, "Look Martha. Really look. Don't let your brain tell you she can't exist. Let the TARDIS telepathic circuit do its work to let you see what's really there; use your first sight, and see the truth."

Martha frowned and blinked. Over in the corner stood a young woman, dressed in grey. It wasn't as if she had just appeared out of nowhere, more like she had just blended into the background so much she had been invisible.

The Doctor spun around on his Converses, rubbed his hands together and asked, "Tea?"

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As Nina opened the door later that morning, she found her usual housemates joined by two others.

George introduced them, "Nina, this is the Doctor; he says he's an alien. And this is Martha, a medical student."

Nina noticed her boyfriend sounded a little strained, but voiced her first comment without thinking, "Bloody doctors…" she then trailed off as her brain processed what George had said. "Did you say alien?"

But before he could answer the man in the suit leaped up, pulling out a strange metallic object, lit with a blue light. He buzzed it in front of Nina, and then glanced at it. "Congratulations! It's a…." he paused, "It's a foetus!"

"You're pregnant?" Annie yelped, hugging Nina.

Mitchell grabbed George in a bear hug, "Congrats man," he muttered awkwardly.

Meanwhile, Martha leaned over and whispered to the Doctor, "She's a werewolf too?"

"Yup," he answered, still grinning.

"But you told me about that werewolf you met, back in Victorian times, you said it was an alien!"

He tutted irritatingly. "Keep up Martha. Just because it has feathers doesn't mean it's a chicken! This breed of werewolf has been on Earth for, oooh, hundreds, if not thousands of years…"

Before the Time Lord could continue, Mitchell interrupted their conversation.

"Why are you here _Doctor_?" He put emphasis on the name, as people always did when they thought the man had something to hide.

Martha didn't move, but inside something, some tiny instinct at the back of her mind was screaming at her to _run_. There was just something about the vampire that screamed _danger._

The Doctor turned to face Mitchell, and out of the corner of her eye Martha could see Nina reach for George's hand. Annie hesitated, half reaching out to the vampire.

The Time Lord stared Mitchell down, his face cold as winter's first snow. "Why am I here? You should know, John Mitchell."

The ghost stared at the man she loved, her face a mask of confusion. Mitchell did not move a muscle.

The Doctor continued. "Ten years I gave you an ultimatum. Ten years to clean up your act. To stop killing." He took a step closer, and lowered his voice, calm and dangerous. "We made a deal, John Mitchell. We made a deal you and I. Now, here is the big question – did you keep up _your_ side of the bargain?"

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><p>Got a little tense at the end there... so, when did they first meet?<p>

Started of light, but the next chapter will get darker

And any Discworld fans...can you find the Terry Pratchett reference?

Also, anyone who can tell me when it was that Mitchell went clean, think it was shown in a flashback in Season 2. Just want to make sure I get my Being Human facts straight!


	2. Explanations

This chapter has a whole lot of talking, and we find out where vampires werewolves and ghosts come from...

The rating has gone up because I can't seem to write Nina without swearing!

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><p><em>"Facts which at first seem improbable will, even on scant explanation, drop the cloak which has hidden them and stand forth in naked and simple beauty."<em>

-Galileo Galilei-

Mitchell shook his head slowly. His face contorted into an angry mask as he ground out the words, "Why couldn't you just leave me alone?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer, but the Irish vampire was already brushing past him, and wrenching the door open, stormed out of the house.

The alien made to go after him but Martha laid a hand on his shoulder, and with a disarming smile said, "I'll go."

For a moment he looked like he was going to argue, but all he said was, "Be careful."

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Martha followed Mitchell a short way down the street before catching up with him. He threw her a disdainful glance then ignored her.

As they strode past a row of shops, Martha saw to her surprise that the Irishman had no reflection. Despite all the strange and unbelievable adventures she had experienced, she could not help but blurt out this fact.

All Mitchell said was, "Didn't your precious Doctor explain vampires?"

The young woman shrugged. "No. He doesn't really explain much of anything. But it doesn't make sense see. I mean, I can accept that vampires are aliens, but a refection is a reflection. It's just science! How can you not have one?"

"It just is," her morose companion answered. "Maybe it's not science. Maybe it's magic. "Then, under his breath, "Maybe it's a curse."

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The three remaining housemates watched as the mysterious Doctor whirled around the house, flicking through anything that caught his eye, and leaving chaos behind him. Eventually Nina spoke up, "What the fuck is going on?" She advanced on the man, grabbing a magazine out of his unaware hand. "Would you put our stuff down, and tell us who the hell you are and how the hell you know Mitchell?"

The Doctor blinked, opened his mouth to talk, and then closed it again. It was strange how the man who could face down Daleks and Cybermen without even a murmur, had absolutely no defence against the tirade of a short, pregnant nurse. He had just got his act together when the woman turned on him again, "But first, tell us everything you know about werewolves."

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The vampire and the time-traveller stopped at a bridge. Mitchell stared moodily at the water below then began to talk.

"It was ten years ago, I was in Paris with a few other vampires, must have been about six of us. And there was this girl, blonde, quite young. Her name was Rose."

He frowned when Martha interrupted with a muttered, "Of course it was."

"_Anyway_, she smelled…different. Exotic. A bit like you and the Doctor actually. Now I know that's how time travellers smell, the time vortex or something he called it. But then…" he paused, shaking his head with a half smile, "Then it was just the most fantastic smell in the world. And, we just couldn't stop ourselves."

He stopped, gazing into the water below. Martha had worked with enough messed-up patients to be able to read some of the complicated emotions that flickered across his face; shame, guilt, regret.

Then, in a tone barely above a whisper he said, "I was a very different person then."

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"A long time ago, centuries ago, there was a war. Thousands of light years away. And the war wasn't going so well for either side. So one of the races invented a weapon. A biological weapon that transformed the molecular structure of any of the enemy race it came into contact with. It turned them into beasts. Monsters. Not everyone got infected but the ones who weren't were ripped apart by their family and friends."

They watched the Doctor as he spoke. His eyes were focused on the corner of the room, as if he was personally recalling the events. Every so often he would glance at one of them, eyes drilling into their skulls.

He continued, "But some of them escaped. Every individual is uniquely different, and some were lucky enough to be immune to the virus… and then lucky enough to avoid being massacred. They took a ship and ended up on Earth."

He paused, eyes heavy with sadness, "They didn't survive very long. The Earth's atmosphere was deadly to them. They lived just long enough to pass on their virus to a few unlucky humans. Humans aren't infected as easily by the virus; it must spread by tooth and claw."

George interrupted, forehead furrowed. "But we aren't wolves all the time. Only during the full moon."

The Doctor gave a sudden bright smile and leaned forward excitedly, "Oh yes! That's because you are _human_. Partly, because you have different biology, different DNA, you don't remain wolf for the entire time – it's connected to the movement of the moon! And partly, partly because there is something so strong, so focused about humans. You force the wolf inside of you to hide, you push it down into your very cores."

The werewolves exchanges glances. To think that this curse that haunted them was so…so scientific. So easy to explain.

Annie broke the silence. "And ghosts? Are ghosts caused by aliens too?"

The Doctor's grin widened even further. "Oh no," he began, "Ghosts are a different story entirely."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"So, you bit her?" Martha hazarded.

Mitchell's expression darkened. "Yes."

"And what happened then?"

"What do you think? The Doctor turned up. And I have never seen anyone so angry." He didn't need to say more than that. Martha shuddered. She had seen the Doctor angry. It was not an enjoyable experience.

She listened as Mitchell recounted how the Doctor had used the sonic screwdriver to scare off the vampires – emitting a frequency too high for human ears but debilitating for a vampire's more sensitive hearing. She heard how the others had run, but Mitchell hadn't. Privately she admired him for that, for staying to face the Oncoming Storm. The Doctor must have thought it brave too, which is why he made a deal with Mitchell.

Briefly she wondered if the Doctor cared about her that much, whether he would defend her with the same anger which which he had defended Rose.

"He said if I stopped killing he would let me go. But...he would come back in ten years. To check. I never saw the other vampires again."

"He didn't kill them." Martha stated conviction emanating from every pore of her body.

When he gave her a questioning look she told him what had happened with the Family of Blood. She told him that the Doctor understood that there were worse things than death.

"The Doctor doesn't kill," she said. And the truth never sounded so deadly.

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"Ghosts," the Doctor began, "are what is left of the human spirit when the body dies. I have never seen another race make ghosts. It's like there is extra life force inside you that cannot be contained by your physical form. The energy to keep up the form is taken from the movement of tiny particles in the air. See they produce kinetic energy which…"

The alien continued on for a few minutes before realising he had long ago lost his audience. Coughing he went back to his main point. "Ghosts aren't alien. They're as human as you can get."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"So did you stop killing?"

Martha knew the question was wrong as soon as it had left her lips. Her medical training had brought her in contact with many addicts, and Mitchell was showing classic signs of addiction. You don't challenge an addict llike that.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "I tried. But this life, this _hunger_ keeps on dragging me back."

She watched him closely, saw the self-loathing and pain in his features.

"They are the best thing that ever happened to me. My friends. If it weren't for them I wouldn't be human any more."

This was stated with such bald honesty that Martha saw suddenly what the Doctor must have seen in the vampire all those years ago. Mitchell knew what he was. He _hated_ what he was. But he did not deny what he was.

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"Vampires are different again" said the Doctor, leaning back in his chair and taking a gulp of his tea. "The original vampires landed in South America thousands of years ago. They were predators, and humans were their prey. But they weren't evil. A fox isn't evil if it kills a rabbit – it just _is._ But they realised eventually that they could change humans, making them stronger and faster – and with a lust for blood. But these new human vampires _were_ evil. Yes, humanity can be brilliant and imaginative and wonderful, but all so often they are disgusting and cruel and terrible. And becoming a vampire brings out the worst in a person, which the original vampires learned – nearly too late."

"But so many things about vampires don't make sense," Annie insisted. She was trying to forget what the Doctor had said, about how the human side of a vampire was the most dangerous part. "They can't be seen in the mirror! They can't enter homes!"

The Doctor raised his hands in despair. "If I explained it would you _actually _understand? The lack of reflection is due to the vibration of a vampire's skin at…" he paused seeing the blankness creeping into their eyes again; and changed tack, "And the inability to enter dwellings is only a human-vampire trait. It's to do with the effect the mind has on the body. It was so ingrained, at the time they were first made, that corpses should not enter homes that it became a lasting physical characteristic. Take for example the placebo effect…"

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Martha sighed, and then said, "You have to go back."

"I know, I just-just got scared. Annie, George, they always were more than I deserved."

He pushed himself off the barrier, the effort a mixture of mental and physical will. "But you're right."

As they walked back she couldn't help asking, "_Did_ you kill again?"

But no answer was forthcoming.

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><p>Hope you enjoyed this chapter!<p> 


	3. Confessions

Mitchell is about to come clean...

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><p><strong><span>Confessions<span>**

_"What is love? Love is when one person knows all of your secrets... your deepest, darkest, most dreadful secrets of which no one else in the world knows... and yet in the end, that one person does not think any less of you; even if the rest of the world does."_

-Anon-

"Do you think this guy's for real?"

George turned the sink on whist he thought through Nina's whispered question.

Eventually he hazarded, "I don't know, he _seems_ to know what he's talking about."

His girlfriend shook her head and sighed. "It just seems so convenient. Just when we need to know what's going on with this baby he turns up with all these answers…"

George switched off the sink and stared at the bubbles for a moment. "But he isn't interested in us is he? He's only interested in Mitchell."

He ran a soapy hand through his short hair distractedly. "What are we going to do Nina? He seems nice enough but those things he said to Mitchell… and what about our baby, we have absolutely no idea what's going to happen!"

Nina stopped him before he could continue in his panicky way. She took his hands in her smaller ones and spoke in her calmest nurse voice. "It's all going to be fine George. Everything's going to work itself out."

But even as he wrapped his arms around her she couldn't help but worry about what would happen once Mitchell returned.

:::::::::::::::::::

"You go first."

Mitchell nodded once, curtly, and then fished around in his pocket for the keys. Without hesitation he unlocked the door and strode into the house.

The moment he entered the bar area he felt four sets of eyes resting on him, whilst Martha's burned into his back.

They watched as he made his way over to the bar, then slumped in a bar stool, began to dispassionately list the instances of pain and horror he had caused over the past ten years.

The small group listened silently, and not even Annie tried to lighten the mood by offering tea.

She and George exchanged glances when the vampire reached events they recognised. His voice didn't shake as he recounted Laurens death, and the tragic half-life that followed it up, until her final end in the alley.

Annie covered her mouth as she remembered the look in Mitchell's eyes as the stake he wielded had sank into Lauren's body, as her ashes had floated into the breeze.

George sighed heavily at the recollection of Becca's death, at Mitchell's refusal to turn her. Unbidden the words from long ago sprang into his mind:

_He had __said to Annie, __"__I'd __forgotten __what __they __were __like, __the __others. __They're __predators. __Every __inch __of __them __is __just __hunger __and __fury. __The __energy __it __must __take __him __every __minute __not __to __be __like __that."_

_Annie had __replied,__ "__Do __you __think __he __should __have __saved __her?__" _

"_I __think __he __did.__"_

Mitchell continued, only a tremble every now and again betraying his pent-up emotion. He spoke detachedly about the priests he had killed, saving his friends from Kemp.

Nina felt her eyes drawn to Martha. The girl was leaning against the doorway, eyes fixed on Mitchell. Her face was completely transparent, and Nina could see every emotion flickering across it. Herself, Nina felt sheer horror at the extent of Mitchell's crimes. How could she bring a child up in the same house as someone who had done such terrible things? How could George just accept it?

Eventually Mitchell finished, and turned, eyes flashing, to face the Doctor.

But before he could say another word Annie burst in, "But he's been trying to stop! Can't you see? Everything he did after he met George and me, he did to save us!"

The Doctor sighed, his ancient eyes full of sadness. "Everything?"

He stared at the vampire for a moment then repeated, "Everything?"

Mitchell stared back, moving not a muscle.

The Time Lord looked genuinely pained as he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a newspaper. George blinked, a small part of his mind thinking, _how __did __that __fit __in __there?_

Splashed over the front page was the article about the Box Tunnel 20.

For a heartbeat there was silence in the house. Then Nina spoke. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you saying Mitchell…"

But she didn't have time to finish her sentence before Mitchell had leaped up, fangs gleaming, eyes black and face locked in a vicious snarl. He picked the Doctor up, smashing the Time Lord against the wall.

"We had to do it, we had to! They killed us, blew us up! We couldn't defend ourselves, we were massacred!"

Annie didn't catch what happened next. The Doctor didn't seem to move, didn't make any violent gesture but the next moment Mitchell had backed away and the alien was standing, straightening his jacket.

The vampire continued in a broken voice, "It wasn't fair, we were so close… we weren't even feeding anymore. I was just so angry…"

Annie felt like the bottom had fallen out of her world. "You lied to us? All this time you were lying to us?"

All George could say was, "Those people, those poor people," repeated over and over.

Nina was silent, but her thoughts were dark and angry.

Martha couldn't look at the Doctor, but all she could think was, _he __was __right. __He__'__s __always __right. __But __this __time __he __hates __himself __for __it._

The alien in question did a most unexpected thing at that point. Silently he took the shaking vampire in his arms, folding him up in a warm embrace. If any of the other occupants of the room had been close enough they would have heard him whisper, "I understand. We do not control what our lives throw at us. But remember this, there is a wolf-shaped bullet, and it's coming. It's coming for you."

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><p>Hope you're enjoying the story so far...will update soon!<p>

This is the most complicated story I've attempted so far, so reviews are much appreciated to let me know whether it still makes sense!

It doesn't take long to review, but it does make me very happy :)


	4. Petitions

This chapter was written with 'Fangyface' :)

We wish everyone a Merry Christmas, Joyous Chanukah and a Happy Holidays!

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><p><em> "The end may justify the means as long as there is something that justifies the end."<em>

-Leon Trotsky-

The silence seemed to stretch for an eternity, each moment torturous. Martha remembered the way Mitchell's face had whitened, how he had stood up and left the room, as if in a dream. Annie was still standing numbly by the counter, her eyes blank as she ran through the numerous conversations she'd had with her lover, all the times he'd lied to her. George also seemed stunned, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for something to fill the silence.

The Doctor was staring at the door Mitchell had exited through, brow furrowed in deep thought. Before he could do anything though, Martha had grabbed him, pulling him forcefully out of the house and closing the front door firmly behind them.

"What the hell was all that?" She hissed angrily.

"What was what?" He seemed unusually distracted.

The young medical student gave him a look her mother would have been proud of, and the Time Lord hastily explained what had happened in that train those fateful months ago.

She gazed in shock for a few moments then, "So what happens now?"

The Doctor was about to answer when the door burst open behind them. A few seconds later Annie emerged, hair whipping around her face and eyes ablaze. She stalked up to the Doctor, brandishing the rolled up newspaper.

Martha flinched as the ghost smacked the alien in the chest with the paper, all the while berating him. "How dare you? _How dare you. _Do you have _any _idea what you've done to him."

The Doctor struggled to produce a coherent answer in the face of the ghost's fit. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the rubbish from last night's chippy rising up menacingly.

Even before Martha had shouted at him to duck he was moving, avoiding the half-chunk of brick aimed at his head.

She moved slowly towards the hysterical poltergeist, hands held up in what she hoped was a placating manner. She took both of Annie's hands in her own and looked her directly in the eyes, speaking calmly all the time. After a handful of minutes, the barrage of missiles finally ended, and the Doctor stood up carefully, picking the ends of chips out of his hair.

Eventually, Annie was coherent once more. "Look, I know what he did was terrible, but he went into _purgatory_ for me. Just because he's done bad things doesn't make him a bad person." She paused and anger flashed through her eyes again. "I _love_ him, and you will _not_ take him away from me now."

George found the small group in the kitchen surrounded by cooling mugs of tea. He awkwardly shuffled his feet and nodded his head at the Doctor, muttering, "Can we speak privately?"

Nina only scowled and reached for one of the warmer mugs.

In the next room, George sighed heavily and turned to neaten up the bookshelves. Slowly, he began, "The first time I met Mitchell, I was being kicked to death by a bunch of vampire thugs. He saved my life. Everything I have today, Nina and our baby, its all thanks to him. And _you_ just waltz in here after ten years and have the nerve to _judge_ him. Who do you think you are? What _right_ do you have to talk about morality when you have no _comprehension_ of what we've been through!"

He was about to continue, when his diminutive girlfriend popped her head round the doorway, and with a raised eyebrow said, "George. Go be busy somewhere else."

George did a passable imitation of a goldfish for a moment, and sighed, and sloped out.

As way of explanation, Nina just said, "He was shouting rather loudly. George tends to get… Overexcited. But, I love him and he loves Mitchell, and I don't want him hurt like that. For as long as I've known him, George has idolised 'Count Moody' to the point of being a tad creepy."

The Doctor casually examined an ashtray, "But you don't like Mitchell."

Nina spluttered, then finally said, "I never said that!"

"But you don't trust him."

"And why should I trust you?"

He turned to face her, drawing himself up to his full height, "I am the Doctor. The Oncoming Storm. Protector of the Earth. Bringer of Darkness. The Evergreen Man. Defender of the Laws of Time. I have seen the dawn of time, and its end. I was old when you only monkeys, scrapping in the dirt. Why should you trust me? Because out of everyone in the universe I am the_ only one_ who can help your baby."

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><p>Hm, bit of a short chapter, but we're getting closer to the finale...<p> 


	5. Accusations

I had some serious writers block with this chapter, hope it's OK!

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><p>"<em>In any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing."<em>

-Theodore Roosevelt-

"They're right you know."

The Time Lord ran his hand through his already rumpled hair and turned to his companion. "What?"

She shrugged and avoided his eyes. "They're right. You're in no position to judge Mitchell."

He threw up his hands, exasperated. "The vampire's a killer! You have no idea the damage he's done in his life!"

She couldn't help herself; the words just seemed to spill from her lips. "And that's different from you how?"

He treated her to one of his helpless puppy dog looks then, injury oozing from every pore. She sighed and changed tack slightly; "Well if he's so dangerous then why didn't you stop him ten years ago?"

"I thought he could change. Everyone should get a chance to change."

"What are you going to do to him?"

She almost regretted asking. Her mind immediately flashed back to the Family of Blood, to the punishment the cryptic alien had dealt out. Mitchell had asked her before, but now she _needed_ to know.

"There are places out there, prisons."

She frowned, knowing that he wasn't giving the full picture. Something was being held back, she had travelled whith the Doctor long enough to know that.

"And the others?"

He shook his head, as if trying to dislodge unpleasant thoughts. "I-I don't know. That baby, that baby never should have been. It's never happened before." He turned, a smile already tugging at the corners of his mouth, "But if anyone can figure it out I can!"

The young medical student frowned, and in a few curt words cut him down from his high horse. "You basically threatened Nina."

He was immediately all wide eyes and look of innocent, "I did not! I told her the truth…. Which she happened to take as a threat and is now plotting upstairs about…"

She watched him as he conintued rambling, his lanky body never still, eyes constantly roving for some new distraction. She sighed, massaging a growing headache at her temples. _What could she do, she couldn't influence him one way or the other, or could she... oh why why was she here she couldn't even make a decision about what was right. Mitchell was a killer for sure but had he changed…_

Martha straightened, she was no expert on ethical dilemmas such as this – well who could be – but she knew one thing for sure.

"They're right, even if they don't know why. You're too much, too old. You can't judge us, not even Mitchell and he's lived for far longer than any ordinary human. But you come here, and you're like a spark in a powder keg, and you send us little humans with our little lives running. But they have managed to make something so wonderfully normal from this mad world they live in and you don't have the right to take that away. What I'm trying to say Doctor, is that this isn't your decision to make."

She paused for a breath, the words hanging from open lips.

He looked at her, the eyes older than any she had ever seen, and far far sadder. Then, in a voice as slow and heavy as the turning of the years he spoke. "No Martha. It is my decision. I make it my decision."

She opened her mouth to interrupt but something in his gaze stopped her. He continued, "Somebody has to make these choices. Somebody used to but now there is only me. I see the world turning Martha, the changing of the seasons, the passing of the ages. All that is and was and ever could be. And, I'm not stopping Mitchell because he is evil or dangerous to others or even because it is the right thing to do. I do it because it is the only thing I can do. Every death he causes strips him of his humanity. The blood on his hands takes away every part of him that is good and kind and loving." He bowed his head, the man with many faces, "I'm doing this for him. And for them. So they do not have to see what he will become."

"But…"

He stepped closer to her, until he was only a breath away, almost shivering with nervous energy. His voice dropped, and its low growl made the hairs at the back of her neck stand up. "The real reason, Martha? Do you want to know why we really came here?"

She nodded mutely, eyes upturned to meet his electric ones. His voice dropped even lower, barely more than a whisper. "I came because Mitchell asked me to. I came back, to stop him, take him away from his friends and destroy his whole life… because he asked me to."

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><p>Despite the huge amount of dialogue I swear this story is going somewhere!<p>

Please let me know if anyone is OOC or if there's anything I can improve, constructive criticism is always welcome :)


	6. Fabrications

This chapter is for 'fangyface' to help her get over her shingles... hope it makes you feel better :)

Our BH characters talk things out...

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><p><em>"The world suffers a lot, n<em>_ot because of violence of bad people. __But because of silence of good people"_

-Napoleon-

"Why? Just… why? Couldn't you talk to us," George lowered his voice, trying to stop it cracking, "Couldn't you talk to _me_ Mitchell?"

The vampire slumped on the edge of his unmade bed, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

Annie spoke up from where she was seated on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest as a barrier against the world. "How long were you going to keep on lying to us?"

Mitchell ran fingers through his already rumpled hair, his Irish accent growing thicker with every word, "I was trying to hard, but you have _no idea_ what it was like fighting constantly against this add-"

Nina interrupted, cutting through his rambling monologue, "You know I don't actually know what's worse, knowing you killed all those people, or lied to us about it then cooked up some harebrained scheme to run away."

"I wasn't running away!"

The last sentence was half-shouted, and for a few moments the room descended into uneasy silence.

As usually Annie was the first to break the tension. "So… what you were telling us was you realised you couldn't control your 'vampire thing' and called this Doctor guy. So he takes you away, you don't hurt anyone else but you still look like a hero?"

He shrugged uncomfortably, "Well when you put it like that…"

"When are you going to stop lying to us?" The other three jumped at Annie's unusually sharp tone.

Mitchell rose in one savage beat, eyes almost glowing as he met each of them with a wild angry stare. In a slow deliberate voice he hissed, "When are you going to stop expecting so much of me?"

He flung his arms wide, feverish with excitement. "This is me ok? I don't get any better than this, and trust me I have tried! I am a vampire and however much I cling to this picture of a perfect fucking life I am always going to be a vampire. George and Nina you can forget what you are, how often do you rip people apart with your bare hands? And Annie," here he crossed the room in one long stride, clasping her shoulders in calloused hands, "Annie, you are far too good to ever end up like me".

He spun to face them all, seeming for a heartbeat so small and helpless. "Don't you understand? Being around me is dangerous. Not because of vampires and zombies, but because being around evil _makes_ you evil. And I can't put you through this anymore. I can't."

George sighed, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. "So how much of it was actually true?"

"I did meet the Doctor. Ten years ago. And he told me what he was, said that he could take me somewhere I wouldn't have to hurt anyone. But-but I didn't want to leave. I took the coward's way out. He told me he would give me twenty years but right after Annie went to purgatory I changed my mind, I contacted him and asked him to find me. Stop me. But then we got Annie back and it seemed for a while like everything was going to be OK. But nothing lasts forever."

The motley group gazed upon their friend, shoulders hunched over. He seemed so very tired. Tired of fighting all the time, simply to stay human.

Nina pinched the bridge of her nose, "So do you want to go?"

"No." The came out just above a whisper, without a trace of hesitiation.

"So." George took his glasses off turning them round in his hands. "What happens now?"

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><p>Next chapter is the end... what will happen?<p> 


	7. Conclusions

Well this chapter did just not want to get written but last chapter here we go :)

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><p><em>"<em>_Spare me through your mercy, do not punish me through your justice."__  
><em>

-Anselm of Canterbury-

The two groups faced each other, across a divide that seemed wider than the ocean. Mitchell, haggard and desperate. Annie on the verge of tears, unable to tear her eyes from her lover's face. George, nervously muttering under his breath. Nina, eyes blank, carefully watching the others. Martha, biting her lip, second guessing the decision she has come to. And the Doctor, eyes at once ice-cold and full of kindness.

Martha took a deep breath. As she opened her mouth, lips dry, her mind flung itself back to what she had discussed with the Doctor. Blood on his hands and blood on his heart. The way vampires became, twisted and tired. But the way he looked at Annie, laughed with George, squabbled with Nina. What right did she have? What right did the Doctor have? But what right did Mitchell have? He was a murderer true, an addict. Had he truly repented?

Her face soft with compassion, she spoke slowly, "Mitchell, how do we know you won't kill again? If we leave you here… and you kill… that blood will be on our hands." She blushed and hesitated, "Literally, I mean…"

His face was a mask of indecision and fear. Striving to hide his terror he muttered, "What did you mean by 'wolf-shaped bullet' alien? What was that supposed to mean?"

The Doctor waved his hand dismissively. "Oh you humans – and vampires – you have no telepathic control whatsoever. An Ood could have plucked that thought from your brain from miles away!"

Nina wrinkled her nose. "You read his mind?"

The Doctor grinned. "Didn't I mention I was brilliant?" At his side Martha failed to stifle a groan.

His eyes flickered, shifting suddenly from sparkling wit to dark silence. "Mitchell. You broke the deal we made. You murdered innocent people, in cold blood."

He held his hand up. "You can make all the _excuses_ you want. You can plead you were blinded by anger or controlled by sorrow. Trust me, I've been there. But the fact is that you are dangerous. To yourself. Your friends. To everyone around you."

Even in the bright light the Doctor's face seemed cast in shadow. "Somebody has to make the law. That's me. And you broke it.

The Doctor's face was unreadable, eyes glinting like shards of polished stone. "Five minutes. Say your goodbyes."

With that he turned and strode from the room, long coat swirling around his ankles.

Martha hesitated. Her eyes were soft as she saw the supernatural house mates standing together. She fumbled for something to say. "It's for the best really. Good luck". With that she fled the house, biting her lip in indecision as she clattered down the steps. The Time Lord was waiting at the bottom, and without a word they turned in the direction of the TARDIS.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

There was silence in the house. Minutes passed as they said a clumsy farewell to their vampire friend. The seconds seemed to hang in the air, heavy with words unspoken. They sped by, like catching snowflakes on your fingertips. The clock's hands shuddered and moved. Inching ever forward.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Aboard the TARDIS the atmosphere was uneasy. The young medical student was unsure, "But Doctor are we doing the right thing?"

The alien shrugged, face splitting into one of his trademark easy grins. He leant forward lifting her chin between finger and thumb. "Maybe, Martha, you were right. Not that I was wrong. We were both right. Obviously."

He spun away hands blurring over the controls, pushing, flicking, spinning and oddly enough, sniffing. He turned to face her again. "Sometimes, if you spend too long looking at the bigger picture you miss how important the individual cogs are. At least to other cogs. Or am I getting my metaphors mixed up?"

She smiled. "No Doctor. You're making perfect sense."

He shook his head sadly. "I wasn't lying when I said that killing robs you of your humanity. I spared him for now. I gave them all precious time together. But you cannot deny the future. And when his story ends it will be brutal and terrible."

"You did what you thought was right."

His face was a picture of anguish as he turned back to the control panel. "Well. It's done now."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Back in the old B&B George frowned. "Either that clock is slow or it's been fifteen minutes."

Mitchell growled low in his throat. "What's he playing at?"

Annie was moving on automatic, already clearing up mugs of cold untouched tea. Suddenly she stopped, pivoting to face the group. She spoke as if in a daze, "She-Martha- she said they were time travellers."

"So?" Nina slumped in a chair and raised an eyebrow.

"So…five minutes? Why did he leave? He could have waited but he left! Five minutes to them could be hours to us! Months, years!"

"What?"

George yelped, caught up in her enthusiasm. "She's right! He pardoned you, he let you stay!" Grabbing Nina he whirled her round in a clumsy circle as Mitchell embraced Annie.

She clasped him tight, ghostly lips next to his ear. "You don't have to go Mitchell. You don't have to leave me. Not ever. I love you, no matter what you've done in the past. _I love you_."

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><p>There we go, finally finished it!<p>

Any thoughts?

I hope you enjoyed!


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